


The Same But Different - original ending

by geenajay



Series: The Same But Different [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-25 01:26:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10753875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geenajay/pseuds/geenajay
Summary: DO not even BOTHER to read this if you haven't read The Same But Different.This is the original ending that I posted:Some readers loved it.Some readers really HATED it.AND they let me KNOW they hated it!So I have re-written the ending, but thought I would put this on, as... I liked it, anyway!





	1. Chapter 19

Sam stood in the doorway of his bedroom and felt tears trickle down his cheeks. His emotions had been torn every which way over the last few days, and especially that afternoon when he had been so torn between the desperate desire of finally getting himself and his family home safely, or staying to face the reporters and build on the incredible chance of changing society’s attitudes towards omegas that Dean had somehow managed to start.

In the end, logic had won out. But he had been unprepared for the actual amount of real _interest_ in the topic! The moment he had finished with the reporters his cell had started ringing non-stop. First was his boss, who could see the advantages of being involved with what might well be a legal goldmine. Then reporters asking for private interviews and photo shoots for their respective outlets, and chat show producers asking for public interviews: _all_ to include Dean of course. And support groups for omegas… and political organisations, all keen to be seen to be getting involved in something so high-profiled and with such a definitely _strong_ public opinion behind it.

Night had fallen by the time he was finally able to get home, and he had felt a moment’s blind panic when he had drawn his car up outside his darkened house. Why were there no lights on? But he was reassured slightly by the policeman still guarding the exterior who nodded at him: “They ordered pizzas, and your young man brought me out a couple of slices. And a mug of coffee.”

He had entered his house… _his_ house… and stopped in shock. The police had played him the recording that Dean had been clever enough to do: he had heard the threats and the noise of numerous grunts and landed blows. He had heard the terrified screams of his children, but now…

Sam followed the trail of violence through his house in disbelief as it all suddenly became _real_.

The two exterior doors had been patched up enough to be locked securely against the night, but still showed the extreme violence that had been used to break them down, and the stench of abandoned and now rotting food filled the kitchen and filtered through to the rest of the house.

And there was the _stink_ of Alphas all through the house. Alphas who just should not have _been_ there.

And just about everything in the living room was destroyed or smashed: furniture _and_ possessions.

And there were outlines on the floor where the bodies had fallen.

And dried blood everywhere. So much blood.

_Too_ much blood.

And the house was so quiet.

He had raced up the stairs feeling his heart pounding inside him: where were they all? Where were his children?

Where was his _mate?_

And now he was standing in the doorway of his bedroom, just letting the tears finally trickle down his cheeks. For they were all in _here_ : _all_ of them.

They had obviously simply ignored the state of the downstairs and had taken refuge upstairs with the pizza.

And here they all were, all cuddled together in the bed: all squashed in a tangled lump of bodies and limbs beneath the covers. Dean, the children, Samuel. All sound asleep in each other’s arms… and _safe_.

Sam stood, watched his family… and cried as his emotions finally overcame him. He had come so close to losing them _all_. If it hadn’t been for Dean…

He finally managed to get himself under control: they all looked so peaceful beneath the covers of his bedding. He should just let them sleep…

But… the need to hold his mate in his arms, to know _he_ was safe, won through.

Gently he eased Johnny out from amongst the others, picked him up in his arms, and carried him to his own bed before returning for Mary-Anne. In moving her, he disturbed Samuel and the young man woke enough to blink sleepily at him from his position alongside Dean on the bed. “Dad?”

“Shush: you’ll wake him. Did he take his antibiotics alright? It’s important we don’t let him pick up any infection at all.”

“Yeah, he took them right on schedule. Dad?”

“Yeah, Samuel?” Sam paused with his daughter in his arms.

“We _do_ miss mom: _all_ of us do. We want him back home with us. But… _this_ Dean’s family as well, dad. He’s ours and we love him… _I_ love him, dad.”

“I know you do, son.” He took the little girl through into her room and returned to find the young man had got out from the bed, and was carefully tucking the covers around the sleeping human. Sam watched him momentarily and frowned: “Where’s his shirt? Why isn’t he wearing one?”

He wondered at the glance his son gave him, then Samuel just as carefully un-tucked Dean from the bedding to reveal his bare left arm. Sam stepped closer incredulously: “What _is_ that? It looks like a hand-print! Branded into his arm!”

“We saw it when the paramedics cut his clothes off to get to the knife. _Everyone_ saw it. And he’s covered in scars: _covered_ in them! Claw marks, previous knife wounds, bullet holes: you name it. Probably everyone else thinks that _you’ve_ done it to him, dad!

Anyway, we’ve all been desperate to ask him about it. Well… M-A asked him. She kept on a bit…well, a lot! He finally gave up and took his shirt off to show us, but he wouldn’t tell us much about how he’s got so marked up.” He paused for a moment: “He did really good today, dad. We’ve been watching him on all the news. _And_ you. And it’s all over the internet: the whole _world_ knows! Things are going to _change_ , dad!”

Sam nodded, his mind still on the mark on Dean’s arm: how had he never noticed it before? But then, he couldn’t remember Dean ever taking his shirt off before. In fact, he had been grimly determined since he had arrived, to keep as many clothes on as possible around Sam! He tried to shake off his thoughts: “We’ve got to make sure they _do_ change, Samuel. While we’ve got the chance to! Time for bed now, though: fresh start tomorrow. There’s a lot of clearing up to do downstairs for a start. Good night: sleep safe.”

“Night dad.”

It was a relief for Sam to finally be able to undress and slide into the bed beside his mate… the near-as-damn-it copy of his mate. Carefully he slipped his arms around Dean, making sure not to pull against his bandaged wounds, and shifted his own body as close as he could get behind him, spooning the human’s smaller body into the curve of his own as he held him close.

Closing his eyes, he breathed in the man’s perfect scent and finally, for the first time in a couple of days, felt himself relax. Dean was safe: he had been so brave in protecting the children, and had nearly paid for it with his life, but now… he was safe and where he belonged. In Sam’s arms.

And his scent was so _strong_ now. Or Sam had just gotten so used to it. But it filled his nostrils and his mind, filling _him_ with peace as he breathed it in. Sam wriggled even closer to the sleeping man until he could bury his face against Dean’s neck, drawing him in with every breath, and feeling his taste against his lips. He lay like that for a long while, just savouring the emotions of having the human beside him again.

Then he couldn’t help but wonder about that strange mark on Dean’s once again exposed left arm as he shifted against Sam’s embrace. It looked like it must have been so painful: what by Our Lady could have caused something like _that?_

And Samuel had said something about other marks? Sam roused himself enough to be able to draw back the covers so he could examine Dean’s naked torso, without any need at all to turn on the main light as his eyesight was just as good in the dark as it was in the daylight: that was one of the advantages of being an Alpha! He stared at all the scars that littered the man’s body: what sort of life did Dean lead? What sort of life was it _anyway_ , that involved him getting as hurt as he obviously _did?_

If he stayed _here_ with Sam and the children, he could be safe. If there was just some way that he could…

Sam gently turned the human onto his back, and lightly used his fingers to trace the marks of the wounds, following where one ran into another, mapping the still stunningly beautiful body in his mind. But soon just touching wasn’t enough: he wanted to soothe his injured mate and to help ease any still painful injuries. It seemed natural to Sam for him to lower his mouth to Dean’s body and start to kiss and lick at the scars, starting from the black leather strap still around his neck and working down, running his tongue along the lines where blades, claws, and worse, had cut into the skin and left their marks.

Each individual rib received his full attention as he worked his way down his mate’s body, as did each of the man’s rapidly hardening nipples. Moving lower, Sam rimmed at Dean’s belly button as it winked at him from beneath the edge of the tight bandages, eventually digging his tongue right into the inviting hole that lay amidst the warm, firm abdominal skin.

What lay at the _lower_ edge of the bandages?

Sam couldn’t help himself: Dean was still wearing the loose-fitting, cord-tied pants that he had come back from the hospital in. Carefully the Alpha raised the man’s hips slightly to ease them down enough until he could pull them free completely and drop them over the side of the mattress, to be followed almost immediately by Dean’s boxers as well.

Sam had to look, and look twice!

Dean had testicles!

He suddenly understood why the nurses in Dean’s room had made shy comments about ‘never having met such an attractive hermaphrodite before’, how ‘really unusual it was’ and how it didn’t detract from his masculinity ‘at all’! Of _course_ the hospital staff would have noticed, but they must have just thought that Dean was slightly abnormal. They obviously hadn’t realised just _how_ unusual his mate was! And lucky they _hadn’t!_

Sam by this time, and without even realising what he was doing, was feeling the weight of Dean’s balls in his hands. And then in his mouth: sucking them in one at a time and rolling them around on his tongue, moaning a little at the completely new taste sensation. Then he moved on to the man’s cock as he felt and heard Dean also begin to moan and thrust his hips in involuntary invitation. And his hands settled into Sam’s long hair as the human woke from his slightly drugged sleep even as he came in the Alpha’s mouth. “Ugch… Sam?”

Sam wanted to make him feel good.

_Sam_ wanted to feel good.

Quickly removing the rest of his own clothes, he crawled back up the bed to cover Dean’s body with his own, mindful not to put any weight on the bandaged area in any way. The man by this time was coming fully awake: “Sam! Wait! What are you doing?”

“It’s okay, it’s okay, Dean. I’ll be gentle, I will. Just… I need to feel you. Need to have your heart beating with mine: need to feel you around me… to be _part_ of me! I’ll make it feel so good, I won’t knot! I promise.” And he was trying to knock Dean’s legs apart so he could lie between them, his own extremely large erect cock bumping against the bandages as the man beneath him desperately resisted.

“ _No_! No, Sam! I don’t want this: not with you! Please don’t do this to me!” And he was trying to push the Alpha off him, but the medication was still in his system to dull the pain… and dull his reflexes… and he was so tired. But he was _still_ going to try his damnedest to resist!

“It’s okay, Dean. Just let me: I’ll look after you! Please!"And Sam was catching at Dean’s arms, careful not to hurt or twist the plastered one at all, but using his greater weight to hold them down to the bed.

“Sam! Get _off_ me!” Dean was getting desperate: wriggling, struggling. Arching his body high in an attempt to throw him off.

Exposing his neck to the Alpha above him.

Sam’s full attention went to it: the wide, black collar… his _mate’s_ collar... was still around the human’s neck. Not that _his_ Dean ever wore it… or even _wanted_ to wear it. But some omegas did, as it was another obvious physical symbol to the world that they had already been claimed and therefore were to be, hopefully, left alone. _No one_ but the omega’s Alpha could remove their collar by law, and Sam had instantly recognised why and applauded Samuel for putting it on the human before he was taken to the hospital, thereby covering the lack of a mark on his neck. _Hiding_ the fact that he wasn’t claimed… and therefore vulnerable to _any_ Alpha who happened to realise that.

_Sam_ realised that.

Shifting his hands to be able to hold both of Dean’s down in just one of his own, he used his free one to undo the leather strap and pull the whole thing away, leaving him to take in the expanse of mark-free, unblemished, un- _claimed_ skin that lay beneath. _Sam_ wanted to mark it. This look-alike…doppelganger…copy… duplicate… perfect double of his beautiful mate was unclaimed, beneath him… and _his_.

The Alpha inside of him growled its approval: it had missed its mate so much. Surely Our Lady had meant this to happen? Why should she have sent the human to this world else?

Dean’s body stiffened with surprise and terror as his brother’s features changed suddenly above him. Sam’s jaws suddenly distorted and extended slightly as his four canine teeth seemed to elongate to stand out from his mouth a good two inches longer they each had just been. Shit: this must be what he had meant when he had spoken of the mating bite!

He tried to force himself to remain calm, to try and get through to the logical, if somewhat self-righteous, man that he had spent the last few weeks getting to know. “Sam? Please don’t do this. I’m not your mate. Not your Dean. He’s going to come back… and I have to go. Just… think… _please_.”

Dean tensed as Sam’s head dipped towards his neck: he could feel the tips of the fangs pricking sharply either side against his skin. All his brother had to do was bite down.

He closed his eyes to try and brace against the pain that would surely be ripping into his throat at any minute…

But then Sam was blinking as if coming out of a daze.

Dean watched with a slight fascination, and a tremendous amount of relief as the canines receded to their normal length and his brother’s features returned to their usual handsome state. Then the younger man was pulling away from him with such haste that he all but tumbled from the bed, landing on his knees beside the mattress. “Oh… oh, Our Lady: have I hurt you? I’m so sorry! So _sorry_ … Dean… I…”

Sam was shaking, physically trembling as he knelt beside the bed. And Dean could feel his own heart pounding inside his chest hard enough to make _him_ shake with every beat. This place, he thought: it’s this fucking _place!_ He lay on his back and tried to calm his breathing, although he now realised that he was panting and gasping for air as if he had not been able to take a breath for hours!

“Dean?” And Sam was reaching for him…starting to reach to touch him as he lay on the bed, but not actually making contact, because he was hesitating instead, the Alpha for once unsure of himself. And there were tears gathering in his eyes, with a couple already escaping to slide down his back-to-normal face. “Dean? I… I’m so, _so_ sorry. I never even thought that I _could_ ever claim another again: I’ve always counted myself as fortunate that I was given the chance to _once!_ But to do that..? I… are you alright? Have I hurt you again? Dean?” And he was crying openly.

Dean looked at him: Sam’s expression was miserable. He had seen his real brother look like that so many times: every time he had let Dean down, and sworn faithfully he would never do it again, and Dean had forgiven him and hoped with all his heart that there would never be another Ruby, or Amy… and then Sam would just go and break it for him all over again…

“I’m good, Sam. It’s okay. _We’re_ okay. But…”

“But what, Dean?” He was already looking hopeful, his puppy-dog-eyes widening as he finally began to get up off the floor.

“Would you mind sleeping somewhere else tonight please?I’m so tired: I just need some sleep.”

The look on Sam’s face now reminded him of a puppy that had just been kicked instead, but he closed his eyes and tried to ignore it. “Sure, Dean. Of course, of course. I’ll… if you need anything, just call. I’ll be….” And the younger man was snatching up his clothes and hastily pulling them on even as he crossed to the door. Where he paused and looked back momentarily: “I’m so sorry, Dean. Really.”

“S’okay, Sam. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Dean breathed a sigh of relief as he heard the door open and close again; the strong scent of his brother receding gradually as he went. He rested on his back and stared at the ceiling, feeling his heart still beating far too fast. This world!

Not for the first time since he had arrived, he closed his eyes and prayed to _any_ God, didn’t matter which, that happened to be listening, to let him finally be able to go home.

On the other side of the door, Sam rested his head against the wood. What had he just done? The man in there had nearly been killed saving his children, and, by way of thanks, he had nearly done _that?_  

He backed carefully away from the door and started with surprise as he suddenly sensed the presence of someone behind him in the hallway. “Samuel?”

“I thought I heard Dean cry out: is he alright? Is he in pain: shall I get his medication? What’s happened?”

“He’s fine: I just… I thought I’d sleep downstairs: give him some space. He must still be so tired. Goodnight, son.”

“Night, dad.”

Sam all but stumbled down the stairs, looked blankly at the wrecked living room, and headed for his study. The chair wasn’t going to be comfortable for sleeping, but then… how was he going to be able to sleep? Not after what he had just nearly done.

His mate, his _real_ mate, would be so ashamed of him and how he had behaved so far towards this other Dean. It should have been him protecting the smaller man and keeping him safe in this world: instead it had been him who had been the greatest danger to the human! He was as bad as any ‘knothead’ Alpha! Worse: because he _knew_ he should be able to behave better, to act intellectually rather than instinctively.

How was he going to explain this to his Dean when he finally came home. And… please Our Lady, let him be home soon…

Because… to hell with logic: instinct was _disagreeing_ with him. In his head, through his body, _every_ single part of him that was _Alpha_ , was still growling its _demand_ that he go straight back up those stairs into that bedroom, and claim what was _his!_ ”

 

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“Do you want a cheese and tomato omelette, or just scrambled eggs for lunch?”

Sam sighed at his brother’s shout from the small kitchen: actually he would have preferred bacon with his eggs! Or even better; a burger. Two burgers! Or a great big juicy steak. His mouth began to water at the thought.

He had been so thrilled at this healthy-eating, almost vegetarian version of Dean… at first. But fish or chicken and lots of greens had quickly gotten not quite enough, even despite this Dean being such a really good cook. He wanted _red_ meat. For the first time, he understood how irritated his real brother used to get when they went to a burger joint and all Sam wanted was a salad… and he wondered if he used to look at Dean’s food with as much hunger as he felt when he thought about eating it now?

Besides, he had a good excuse to _need_ to eat meat now! Or at least, something to give him energy, because… this Dean was waking him up more and more during the night wanting sex. Even _after_ the evenings before… He was _insatiable!_ And Sam, frankly, was exhausted. And sore, in places that he had never _been_ sore in before, not even during the first couple of months with Jess! And they hadn’t even _got_ to this thing that Dean was worried about: what was it… a heat? yet…

He was disturbed from his thoughts by the heavy steel door at the top of the stairs opening and Castiel appearing through it. “Hey, Cas!”

The other looked around at the greeting and smiled as he hurried down the steps to join Sam where he was sitting at the table working with his laptop. “Hello, Sam. You look tired.”

“And welcome to you as well, Cas. What brings you here? As if I don’t know.” And he was giving the angel a knowing smirk, which deepened as the other flushed a little in response.

“I was wondering how it was going: are you any closer to finding how to swap the Dean’s back again? Or even where ours might be?”

Sam sighed as he leant back in his chair enough to tip the front legs off the floor. “No, nothing! I’ve read every book in the bunker twice. Hell, _Dean’s_ read every book here twice! But there’s _nothing!_ Nothing to give any clue at all.

And I’ve called every Hunter I can think of, but no one has ever heard of _anything_ like this. And I get the impression they’re all thinking I belong back in the asylum for just _mentioning_ the existence of another dimension! Although… none of them believe in _time_ travel either… and _we_ know that’s possible.

Hell, _our_ Dean’s probably the expert on that subject, as it always seems to be him who’s taken _through_ it!” He laughed at the irony. “We could do with him _here_ , to ask about how we go about getting him _back!_ ”

“He’ll be working on it there, Sam, he’ll be wanting to come home. He’ll find a way.”

They both fell silent for a moment: “You _really_ think you felt something…a presence? From the moon?”

“I’m certain, Sam. There was… _something_ there: I distinctly felt it watching me. And we _both_ saw that spirit animal: _something_ caused that. Either Dean himself without realising, or… this ‘Lady’ that he assures us is watching over him.”

“So… a _Goddess_ , then? A moon goddess?” Sam thumped the legs back down and pulled his laptop forward again to make the screen light up on the site he had been currently studying. “I’ve researched plenty of _those_ as well! _And_ gods! And from many different societies and religions: Greek and Roman as usual, Hindu obviously, but also Aztec, Incan, Chinese, Native American Indian, Philippine, Egyptian; you name it! Some are even still worshipped today. And most seem to be connected with fertility and motherhood…which is somewhat apt for _this_ Dean, but not ours!

But again, nothing documented as more than beliefs, nothing actually real. Or at least: nothing that has _ever_ been chronicled in any of the ledgers in here!

And…if it _is_ a Goddess…? And I’m not saying that I believe it… but if it is… then how the hell are we going to _communicate_ with it…her? To convince her to swap them back? How?”

Their conversation was interrupted by Dean’s light footsteps approaching them from the direction of the small set of stairs: “Your omelette’s ready, Sam. I made one for you as well, Cas. I know you don’t eat… but it seemed rude not to.”

“How did you know I was here…?” The angel began, but caught back his own words as he reflected that Dean would have scented him the moment he entered the door. But then the question was forgotten anyway as he stared at the omega, his eyes crinkling with worry. “You are not well. What’s wrong?”

Sam turned in surprise and also stared at his brother. Castiel was right: Dean’s face was definitely looking unnaturally flushed. He swore at himself: _he_ should have noticed that!

“I’ve been cooking, that’s all. It’s nothing.” But Dean had turned away from them both, his head down, and was already beginning to return down the steps without even moving to greet the angel with his accustomed passionate embrace.

“Dean?” Sam’s was on his feet, his long legs taking him across the room in just a few strides, followed closely by Castiel, to catch at the other’s elbow and stop him in his tracks. “What is it?”

He was surprised when, for the first time since he had arrived, Dean tried to step away from him and his outstretched arms. And he was refusing to look up at Sam. The younger man gently caught his chin in his large fingers and made him tip his head back enough to see his face. “Dean, what _is_ it?”

Again his brother tried to look away, but failed. “It’s the start of the heat.” The others could hardly hear the embarrassed whisper. “That’s why I’ve been riding you so hard, no pun intended, hoping desperately to keep it at bay. But I can feel it building inside me, and it’s going to be bad, Sam. I haven’t had one for seven years! It’s going to be _bad_.”

His voice trailed off. Sam could see the tears glistening beneath the long lashes. He glanced over at Cas, who was looking as upset as he knew _he_ probably did. Gently he pulled Dean back up the top two steps and stepped away from them enough that both he and the angel could put their arms around him: entangling him securely between their firm bodies, Sam to his front and Castiel pressed against his back.

“Can we do anything to help?”

There was a shake of soft hair against his chin. “I’m sorry to you both in advance for what I’ll be like: I’m probably going to be… overly demanding when it hits full force.”

Sam pressed his hand to Dean’s forehead: his brother’s skin was definitely clammy. “Is that why it’s _called_ a heat? Because you’re genuinely going to get hot as well?”

“It’s the sign of its approach: yes, my temperature will go up a lot to just about feverish levels. I’ll start to get nauseous; chills; feel generally bleagh… then… the madness descends, and I’ll just want… _demand_ … “

“Demand what?”

There was a snort. “A knot. An omega wants a _knot_ … _needs_ a knot! Needs to be satisfied: needs to be bred. That’s what the heat _is_. And for that I need an _Alpha_. And possibly you two betas could help me through a normal, ‘regular’ heat if I hadn’t been using suppressants for years, but this… It’s not going to _be_ a normal one. Not at all. I need to go home: I need my _Sam._ ”

“Dean? Look at me.” He felt his brother physically sigh, but waited until the green eyes were looking up at him, brimming with anxious moisture. “We’ll get you through this. Cas and I will do whatever we have to, to get you through it. How long do you think we’ve got?”

“I’m not at the feverish stage yet. Perhaps tomorrow? Definitely by the day after.”

“Is there no way of stalling it?” The angel’s gravelly voice spoke up. “You said you were trying to keep it at bay?”

Dean’s eyes flashed in his direction: “Well, only by… But you’re going to struggle trying to satisfy me once the heat hits, _believe_ me: it will be crazy to exhaust you both before it starts!”

“But,” Castiel couldn’t help his smirk as he physically turned Dean, who was still wrapped between the two of theirs arms, enough to be able to get his mouth pressed against the omega’s full pink lips, his tongue already probing to try and get between them. “If there is just the _chance_ that it gives us an extra day to find a way to get you home… then we must be prepared to make sacrifices.”

He now had Dean fully facing him and was starting to loosen his clothing even as the other opened his mouth to allow him access. “I don’t know about Sam, but _I,_ for one, am ready to give everything I have to for the good of the cause!”

 

 

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Dean stirred from an uneasy sleep. He couldn’t settle: his abdomen where he had been stabbed hurt like shit; he was still un-nerved by that far too close encounter with Sam, and… He didn’t know what else, but there was something… something that he needed… something that would let him settle… something that… he wasn’t sure what it was but he wanted it. He wanted whatever it was.

More than that. He _needed_ whatever it was: he needed it to help him sleep.

Whatever the hell it was.

Rolling onto his back with a slight groan of pain, Dean stared out through the slightly parted drapes at the night sky beyond. There was a circular-shaped glow behind the clouds: the moon must be up and bright. He’d lost track of the lunar cycle over the stressful last few days, but, he thought, from the shape formed, it looked close to being full.

And, as if they had been listening to his thoughts, the clouds suddenly parted and the moon revealed herself. A bright, shining orb in the sky that momentarily dazzled him before, in the very next blink, his eyes had adjusted perfectly.

Dean gazed out at the sight with awe: in whichever world it was beautiful. The first night of the full moon, and it was just…absolutely stunning. And bigger than he had ever seen it before, although, when he came to think about it, it had looked large that early morning in Kansas City as well. The morning he had somehow arrived _here_.

Jesus: had that really been a month ago? Had he really been here that _long_?

He lay back and stared up at the ceiling, intending to concentrate on just relaxing and take deep calming breaths in to aid him in his bid for more sleep. But after just one, there was no more need. Because he had now become aware of the aroma in the room, the scent that he liked so much, the smell of the pure forest, and spring, and musk. He didn’t even need the light of the moon to tell him where the source of the wonderful smell was: Dean was raising himself on one elbow to look before he had even wondered about _how_ it was he knew.

“Samuel?”

The young man was sitting on the chair in the corner of the bedroom, the one that Dean had retreated to that very first night: shirtless and bare-footed, dressed only in his sleeping sweatpants, leant forward on the seat with his long legs opened wide, elbows on his knees, clasped together hands supporting his chin, his eyes staring anxiously at the human as if terrified to look away. But at the mention of his name, he was across the room and kneeling beside the bed in an instant.

“Are you alright? I smelt your stress. I was coming to stop dad. I _would_ have done, Dean! I wouldn’t have let him hurt you! He shouldn’t have done that!”

“It’s alright, Sammy. No harm done.”

“It’s _not_ alright, Dean. He _shouldn’t_ have touched you! You’re not his to touch!”

He tutted at Dean, who despite himself had had no choice but to chuckle at his righteous indignation. Then Samuel was carefully edging onto the bed next to him, sliding beneath the covers, wrapping his left arm around the man’s shoulders and allowing Dean to use his chest as a makeshift pillow. “Is this okay? Am I hurting your wound in any way?”

“It’s fine. Better than fine. Thanks, Sammy.” And indeed, the warm strong body of the young man _did_ feel comfortable. Not to mention that the scent of his cologne was wafting over Dean like a comfort blanket, he really did like it so much: he could feel himself relaxing, his aches seeming to ease, sleep seeming finally within reach as his eye lids suddenly felt really heavy…

“What _is_ that you wear, Samuel? Your aftershave, or anti-perspirant, or whatever it is… I keep meaning to ask you…”

He was almost fully asleep: he almost didn’t process the sound of the snort, or Samuel’s next words: “I’m not wearing _anything_ , Dean. That’s _me_ : that’s my scent. It’s calling to you. Just like yours has been calling to mine ever since you arrived. Because you’re mine, and I’m yours. No matter _how_ much you try and deny it.”

“Sammy, that’s stupid…” Dean didn’t bother to try and open his eyes. “I’m not an omega…”

“Perhaps you weren’t. Not when you first arrived: your scent was so faint. But… since then… it’s got so much stronger! _Really_ strong: more than mom’s even! It’s been driving me crazy! Driving _all_ the Alphas crazy!

And… didn’t you wonder how the hospital never noticed that you weren’t? They took scans, Dean. They _operated_ on you, for Our Lady’s sake. Why didn’t _they_ notice that you weren’t an omega, unless of course… you _are_?”

“Samuel, I…” Dean was coming more alert. _What_ was he saying? That was crazy talk: he was human! Of course he was! He couldn’t be anything else… could he?

But the young man was still talking: “And you’ve changed in other ways, haven’t you, Dean? Your sense of smell? You know where we all are in the house, don’t you? You may not realise it but your nose twitches with every breath you take now. And your hearing, definitely. Much better than mine, and mine’s really good! And when you jumped down the stairs: is that something you could have done before? What about your eyesight? Has that changed?”

“You’re being ridiculous.” Dean was indignant, and rightly so. Samuel was being _ridiculous_. He sat up to tell the young man so, and stopped.

For the moon had disappeared behind the clouds once more: the room was in complete darkness. Yet Dean suddenly was realising that he could see everything easily. Really easily. But it was… almost monochrome. He could see everything around him so clearly, but all in black and white, and grey. And possibly a drab beige. But no other colour at all. He stared incredulously at Samuel, who was also leaning up on his elbow and… reaching out to him.

He felt the touch of the boy’s hand on his cheek, and… it felt good. It shouldn’t feel good! Not from this boy. “What else, Dean? What else is different? And why do you like my smell so much? Because if you want me to prove it, I can go and have a shower, use nothing but water, and I’ll come out with exactly the same scent because it’s _me_ , Dean. Just me. You can come into the shower with me and see, if you’d like.”

He was now leaning forward, aiming to close his mouth on the hum… Dean wasn’t quite sure about that anymore. He pulled away, trying to maintain some control over himself and what was happening. “This… I… I’m nearly twenty years older than you, Sammy! Don’t even go there! This can’t… this _shouldn’t_ …”

“Age difference doesn’t matter here, Dean. Gender doesn’t matter even. It’s all about the scents: how they complement each other. And ours _want_ to mix, want to merge together. We’re _soulmates_. I know it: you know it. You need mine to feel complete: were you having trouble sleeping without it?

If I wrap you in my arms and hold you now, how quickly _will_ you fall asleep? I bet you would. I may not be presented yet, but our _scents_ know that we were created for each other. Come down here.

Come _here_ , Dean.”

And he was laying back down on the bed again, pulling Dean to lie with him. And despite himself, the older man was obeying the order and following, until they had returned to their position of just a few minutes before, with him resting against the young man’s chest, Samuel’s left arm protectively around him, holding him close, the aroma of his… natural scent… filling Dean’s nostrils.

Despite himself, he inhaled deeply… and felt himself relax.

Then, as he felt Samuel’s lips begin to nuzzle into his hair, Dean’s fear grew again. He shouldn’t _be_ here. Not like this. Not with this good-looking young man. Why had he just thought about how good-looking he was?

He had _noticed_ , naturally. Because Samuel _was_ very good-looking! As well as already having a really good body, _and_ being an absolute sweetheart, really good company and already somebody that Dean loved very, very much. But not because they were soulmates! That was ridiculous!

His dad would be so ashamed of him.

He would tell Dean he was letting him down.

Although… if Dean were honest with himself… he _always_ let his dad down… in _everything_. He was never fast enough; strong enough; ready enough; smart enough; good enough. Not at _anything_. Sam had always told him that he was stupid for trying to please the man. Because he never could… and he never did.

And… if Dean were _really_ honest with himself… his relationship with Sam was going the same way. It seemed as if nothing he ever did now was good enough for his _brother_ , either! He always somehow made Dean feel small mentally as well as physically, as if he was only tolerating him until he could leave again. And he didn’t even _bother_ to look for Dean when he got trapped in Purgatory: what did _that_ say about what his brother thought of him? Really, what _would_ Sam say if he saw Dean lying on a bed with a man? And a much younger man, at that? _He_ would tell Dean he was letting him down as well. 

And he probably was. 

He _always_ seemed to, somehow. 

“Whatever you’re thinking about, stop it.”

Dean started as Samuel suddenly broke the silence. “I… what?”

“Your scent has turned so sad, Dean.” He wriggled down the bed, turning himself onto his side so he could face the man eye to eye as they lay there. “I don’t like it when you’re sad: I’m going to make it my purpose in life that you never are again.”

“Sammee…” Despite himself, he was smiling at the young man’s earnestness. And it _did_ feel good when Samuel wrapped his right arm around him as well and pulled their bodies even closer, even _though_ it shouldn’t. “You’re just a kid: really you are, compared to me… I’m _far_ too old for you. You’ve just got a bit of a crush, that’s all. Especially after recent events.”

“Dean? Get this through your head, will you? It’s not about our ages: it’s about _us!_ And just for the record… you’re absolutely perfect!” And his mouth was once again awkwardly trying to find Dean’s, pushing against the man hard enough to make the other slightly turn away and onto his back without realising, with Samuel immediately taking the chance to follow, carefully laying his body half over the other’s while making sure he didn’t put any pressure on any of his wounds. “And it’s not just _me_ that thinks that: _you’ve_ seen the attention you get from all the Alphas!”

“You’re making me sound like a hot chick!” Dean was amused and disgruntled all at the same time.

“You _are_ a hot chick! You’re an _incredibly_ hot chick!” Samuel chuckled, but then abruptly turned serious. “You’re a beautiful omega, Dean. _Really!_ You are, seriously, absolutely stunning. And… I’m asking you to consider accepting me as a mate. Seriously, age doesn’t matter here but if it does so much to you… do you think you can get over me being younger than you? Do you think you _could?_ ”

Dean stared up at him incredulously: there were tears gathering in the young man’s eyes at the thought that he might be being rejected. It was instinctive for him to put his hands up to wipe them away even as they started to trickle down Samuel’s cheeks. And somehow touching the young man’s face, holding him so intimately… felt nice. Even though the tears were still coming, and now running down Dean’s wrists. “Hey! You’re going to get my plaster cast all wet!”

“Sorry.” And the other was trying to wipe away his tears himself. Dean did so love this gorgeous young man: he did really _love_ him. And looking up into the green eyes that were almost a match for his own… he wanted to make those dimples appear again. He really hated it when his mate was sad as well…

Why the hell had he just thought of him as his _mate?_

Dean stared up at Samuel, who stared back, still sniffling: his young face showing his nervousness, and embarrassment, and hesitation, and yearning. And shyness. He had never seen Samuel so uncertain, but he _was_ : he was biting his lips with anxiety because he had taken the chance to declare his feelings out loud and was literally shaking with nerves as he waited for the response. Dean’s attention focused on those lips, and wondered what it would be like to kiss them.

And then, he wanted to do just that.

And suddenly…what his dad might have thought? And what the real Sam _would_ think? Suddenly neither of them mattered. Because Dean… _wanted_ this.

Whatever this was. Whatever _he_ now was! He wanted _this_.

He smiled shyly. So did Samuel. And then the young man was leaning right over Dean and lowering his upper body enough that their mouths were meeting once more. And _this_ time, Dean was responding.

Dean had kissed numerous ladies over the years: he had even tried kissing men once or twice when he was younger. Not to mention this last month when he had been forced to kiss this world's version of Sam a few times.

But _Samuel_ …?

He tasted every bit as good as his scent smelt. And although obviously a novice at kissing, he seemed intent on learning fast. And… it felt really good: more than that, it felt _right_.

_They_ felt right.

They were both panting a little when they finally broke for air, and stared at each other as they recovered their breath. And, as he looked up at Samuel, Dean realised for the first time that, somehow, he was now lying _beneath_ the other on the bed.

And that he was still completely naked apart from his bandages.

And that Samuel was _extremely_ aroused in his sweatpants. And god, he was _more_ than rivalling his father when it came to that department.

And _he_ was hard as well.

But Samuel was speaking again. Dean tried to ignore what was rubbing against his lower half to focus on what the young man was saying: “You know, Dean. I’ve been waiting for years, desperate to present. Wondering why I haven’t, but I finally realise why. You weren’t here.”

“I… What?”

“Our Lady brought you here, Dean. To save our family. To save our _world_. And…”

Dean couldn’t help but smile at his intensity. “And?”

“And she brought you to me, Dean. You were created for me, and I was created for you. That’s why we feel so right together. I know it: you know it. There would have been no _point_ in me presenting earlier because you weren’t _here!_

But you are now.”

And as if on cue, the full bright intensity of the moon was suddenly streaming through the drapes. Dean would have momentarily winced in the brief instant before his eyes un-humanly adjusted almost instantaneously, but… he didn’t even notice.

Because his _whole_ attention was suddenly focused on Samuel.

The boy felt the entire majestic power of Our Lady sweep through him as he finally presented. He felt every single molecule in his body disintegrate and rebuild simultaneously before he even had the chance to scream. His eyesight, already good, became absolutely perfect: twenty-twenty, even at night. He didn’t realise it but they glowed with an eerie interior light momentarily as he absorbed every single miniscule particle from the moon’s rays.

Every muscle he had was torn apart and reformed, rippling with innate strength and masculinity. His hearing sharpened enough to catch the slightest rustle of breeze through a cobweb.

His animal ancestry flowed through him momentarily as the nails in his fingers and toes momentarily turned back into claws that erupted from his appendages before receding once again. His balls formed, with the strangest and most _uncomfortable_ prickling sensation as they grew as if from the interior of the rest of his flesh and immediately filled with seed ready to be spread. His knot also came into being: erupting from and expanding his already erect cock until he was all but crying with the sensation, then, just as abruptly the uncomfortable swollen feeling was gone, leaving him with just the desperate desire to _use_ it. To bury himself deeply into his chosen mate and _howl_ at Our Lady with pleasure.

His sense of smell also impossibly sharpened: Samuel wouldn’t have believed it possible, not that he was getting much of a chance to think about any of it anyway, but he had always thought of his ability to scent as being good. It had been _nowhere_ near it. _Now_ he could suddenly smell everything in the room, in the house, in the street. But _nothing_ else was anywhere near as important as the one thing that _every_ one of his new senses instantly and sharply focused on.

One perfect scent. The scent that had been affecting him ever since he had smelt it a month before. The scent of his mate. His soulmate. The one destined to be his and sent by Our Lady herself.

He was here.

Right now.

And he was so beautiful. So _perfect_.

And Samuel _would_ have him.

And even as that certainty flashed through Samuel’s mind, he felt his jaw begin to distort and his canines extending, sharpening to deadly points ready to deliver the claiming bite: forcing him to hold his mouth open uncomfortably until the strike was made.

_He_ was an Alpha.

And the only thing that mattered to him… would _ever_ matter to him… was his omega.

His mate. His Dean.

_His_.

Samuel caught his breath and stared down in triumph at the wide-eyes of the incredulous man beneath him.

Dean couldn’t quite believe what had just happened. Samuel had transformed from an, all-be-it already strong and fit, good-looking youth, into a really _incredibly_ handsome Alpha in front of his very eyes.

_His_ Alpha.

And the eyes of his Alpha were focused on _him_. And _only_ on him.

“Samuel?”

He had been told of what would happen next: that a newly presented Alpha would be driven by sheer lustful instinct to mate immediately above all else… and, trapped as he was by the obviously powerful body above his, he was conscious that even if he _hadn’t_ just previously accepted that he was the target of such desire, the way the presenting had just happened meant that he would have had little choice in the matter anyway.

But at least he did want this: he _did_ want Samuel, and actually… he did very, _very_ much. But Dean now realised that he was afraid of what was about to happen: would he even survive it? Or would the knot of his young mate simply turn him apart internally?

And…there was something else that they hadn’t even _discussed_ yet.

But Samuel was taking many deep breaths above him, and panting, and… the fangs were withdrawing back to their normal appearance. “Dean?” he was gasping with the effort of containing his newly conscious instincts. “I would never force you! If you don’t want this: if you don’t want _me_ , then… I’ll let you go. I’d never hurt you. I would _never_ hurt you. And I’ll wait for you ‘til the day I die, because I know you’re the only one I’ll _ever_ want.”

His limbs were shaking from trying to hold the Alpha now inside him back. Sweat was dripping from his forehead and running down his back just from keeping the most basic of animalistic impulses under control now they had awakened within him: “But you have to want me as well! You _have_ to! I want a mate! I want a partner! I want an _equal!_ I never want to have to worry that I claimed you against your will: I want _you_ to claim _me!_ I…”

He was losing the battle with whatever was now inside him. And it _was_ something inside him: Samuel had never understood the smutty talk on all the TV shows about having to obey the ‘inner Alpha’ before, but… now he had _presented_ , there was definitely something in him that hadn’t been there before: a being formed from pure instinct inside his mind and body that was threatening to override all his ideals and moralities.

But then suddenly it didn’t matter because Dean was putting his arms around Samuel’s newly broadened shoulders and pulling himself up enough to be able to crash his lips against his young mate’s. “I _do_ claim you, Sammy. I do _want_ you! But… are you sure? I have to go home: not because I want to, because I _don’t_ , but because your little brother and sister need their _mom_. What happens then…?”

Samuel moaned with relief and chased the other’s mouth back down to the mattress. “Either you’re staying here or I’m coming with you! Or I’ll find you, _somehow!_ I swear I will! Our Lady hasn’t brought us together just to tear us apart again, Dean: we’re _soulmates!_ ”

“Speaking of tearing apart, Sammy…. I’m really…quite…”

He felt the young… no, he felt the _man_ , the newly presented _Alpha_ , laugh against his mouth. “ _You’re_ scared, Dean? I’m freaking _terrified!_ ”

And with that, all tension between them had gone. Dean relaxed and simply inhaled the spring-forest sweet scent of his mate, feeling it wash through him like a physical wave, flowing into every particle of his body and soul, whispering that it would be okay: everything had been planned by something far beyond their understanding. All he had to concentrate on was enjoying what was going to happen, and accept the claim from his mate.

The kissing turned more passionate: Dean had a mouthful of Samuel and he loved it. Loved the taste of him; loved the feel of him; loved being touched by him. And when his Alpha reached to gather his hips into his surprisingly _large_ hands, and tilted his pelvis forward ready to take him for the first time, Dean only felt a momentary flash of anxiety. Relax: he just had to relax.

“Am I hurting your wound?” The worry in the whispered voice caused Dean to smile: he really _did_ love his caring Alpha!

“No. just…do it, Sammy. Give it to me.”

“Okay… _my_ omega.”

And with that he was finally pushing inside Dean, his inner Alpha howling with triumph. He himself was moaning with pleasure: Samuel had often wondered what it felt like, to have sex with an omega, it had been the source of many discussions with his friends, some of them even being done whilst sober!, but this… oh, Our Lady: his mate felt so good. So perfect. And all _his!_

And Dean in turn was blinking in surprise. Because it didn’t hurt at all as Samuel entered him, although it felt a little strange. But a good strange. And… it was easier than he had expected… a lot easier. And he was suddenly realising that there was something that was _making_ it easier. A thick liquid of some sort: he could feel it beneath him already soaking the bed covers, and it had an almost overwhelmingly strong scent…of _himself!_

It was coming from _him!_

What the hell?

“Sam! Sammy! What’s the… what _is_ that?” And he was reaching down with his hand, feeling the dampness on his fingers. Then his Alpha was snatching at them gently and sucking them into his own mouth, exclaiming momentarily at his first taste of heaven. Oh, Our Lady, his mate was so perfect: everything _about_ him was perfect! He would be quite happy never to eat anything else ever again!

“You’re slicking, Dean!” And he was scooping some more of the thick substance up and offering his hand for Dean to lap at himself. “Your body has prepared itself for mine! What _more_ proof do you need that we’re meant for each other?”

“I…“ But Dean’s response was cut off as Samuel instinctively adjusted the position of his next thrust, and perfectly struck… something… inside his mate that made the other see stars! “What the?”

“Am I making it good enough for you?”

“ _Hell_ , yeah. Keep doing that!” And he was arching his back, and just allowing Samuel to take the lead, because, somehow, the younger man knew _exactly_ what he was doing! And then Dean could feel the strangest feeling inside him as Samuel’s knot began to expand for the very first time inside him, stretching him to his very limits.

But it didn’t hurt. Not in the slightest. In fact, as the new pressure was applied to where nothing of _any_ kind had ever been, Dean could feel… something give, deep inside him. No, not give, there was no force as such, but… it was as if something was being pushed apart… _open_. Something that must always have been there, inside his body, was finally being _opened_ by the expanding knot of his mate. And it felt _better_ than good. In fact… as it dilated even more, almost _too_ good. Dean couldn’t take any more, he was going to…

And then he was hit by the most tremendous climax that he had ever had. _Ever_.

And as he all but writhed beneath the strong body of his young mate, he felt some instinctive inclination to throw his head back and expose his neck. For some reason he didn’t fully understand, he _wanted_ Samuel to see his neck. And then, even as he heard the younger man also start to moan and gasp from his first ever presented orgasm, suddenly the canines were slicing into his neck, meeting inches deep within his skin as if about to tear a huge chunk of flesh away.

But it didn’t hurt. Dean had expected it to _hurt_. But instead it burnt! With a fire that passed from his mate into himself, carrying with it incredible desire, and offered possession from Samuel to himself, and a hope that Dean would want to be possessed also, and protection, and dedication, and _want_. And _love_. So much love that Dean felt it flame throughout every last atom of his body, igniting and disintegrating any doubts and fears that he had _ever_ had into mere memories of ashes as Samuel claimed him as _his:_ claiming him from the inside out and the outside in, until the end of time itself. And probably _far_ beyond that.

He held his Alpha tightly to him as they both recovered their breath. Then Samuel was pushing at Dean’s left leg to make him undo it from where it had been wrapped around the younger man’s waist during their mating, and carefully lifted Dean’s hips physically so he could gently turn them both to lie face to face on the bed, worried about pulling in any way at the stitches still in his beautiful mate’s abdomen. “Was that okay? Did I hurt you?”

“No. That was… incredible. I…” But Dean couldn’t speak again for another couple of moments as his mate’s knot continued to pulse against every molecule inside him, creating such a continual build-up of pleasurable pressure that he could only moan through, tighten his still wrapped-round right leg, and try to ride out.

In fact, the last thing Dean was aware of before he fell soundly asleep in Samuel’s arms, fully sated and his body still twitching from the effects of the knot that would join them together as one being for at least another half an hour, was the gentle licking of his Alpha’s tongue at his throat, soothing and healing the mating bite, and the whispers of just how much he loved him.

He didn’t even hear Sam suddenly burst frantically into the room, having been awoken from an uncomfortable and troubled sleep downstairs in his chair by the, to him, disgusting smell of another Alpha in the house. He had come racing up the stairs in a panic, desperate to stop the rape of the human, but paused immediately on entering his bedroom at the realisation that he was already far too late.

Sensibly Sam backed away from the deep disapproving growl of the newly presented and already very strong young Alpha, who wouldn’t hesitate to defend his mate to the death if he thought there was a definite threat. But he was shaking as he did: Samuel had _presented_. And claimed their guest! What _must_ Dean be thinking about them as a family?

But even as he went to close the door behind him, Sam paused. And listened. Not that he needed to strain his ears at all to hear the sound in the room, for it was very loud in the silence of the night. A new sound.

A pleasurable sound.

A deeply _arousing_ sound.

The purr of a sexually contented omega.

Sam stood in the corridor outside his bedroom in disbelief, but there was no doubt as to what he had heard. But how could it have happened?

Somehow the human… had _turned?_


	2. Chapter 20

“Sam! _Sam!_ ”

The shout from somewhere in the bunker was an excited one. Sam blinked and sleepily tried to open his eyes, wincing at the bright light of the morning. It took him a few moments to try again, and then it seemed no better. And he _hurt_. His whole body felt _wrecked_.

“ _Sam!_ ” Dean’s shouts were getting louder as he was approaching the bedroom: he sounded _very_ excited about something. Sam supposed that he should really try and get up, but… just a few minutes more.

There was a rustling in the bed beside him, and Castiel’s head was coming into view from beneath the rumpled bedding: the angel’s hair tousled and stuck down with sweat. And _he_ was groaning as well as he tried to turn over onto his back. Despite himself, Sam chuckled at the sight of him: “Rough night?”

“Extremely.” Castiel’s voice sounded even more gravelly than usual. “But I would not have missed it, Sam. Not for anything. Where’s…?” He was looking around the room, realising that there were only the two of them in there now when during the night there had been three!

“He’s up and about somewhere.”

“Where does he get the energy from, Sam? Even with my grace, this physical body is exhausted. And…” he was remembering… certain events of the previous half day and all night. “Did Dean manhandle me to the bed last night? I seem to recall him picking me up and throwing me on to it because I wasn’t getting back to it as fast as he seemed to think I _should_ be… “

“Yeah, Cas. Yeah he did. And you _loved_ it, you dirty dog, you…!“

“I don’t think he was irritated at me because of my lack of cleanliness, Sam. More my lack of speed.”

“Yeah, Cas. Yeah, I meant…”

But the door to the room was being flung open so violently that it hit the wall behind it, and the omega was suddenly in the room, waving something that he was holding in Sam’s direction. “It’s glowing, I can go home!”

“What?”

Then Dean, rather than walking around the bottom corner of the bed, was leaping straight over it in his excitement to end up standing beside Sam who had finally managed to struggle to sit up, where he knelt on the mattress and held out the stone to him reverently. “It’s _glowing_ , Sam! The other Dean must have found a way to get us back! Come on, get up! We need to get back to the warehouse!”

“But…are you sure, Dean? I can’t see _anything_.”

“It is indeed glowing, Sam.” The angel was agreeing, but he didn’t sound happy about it. “A faint blue, but definitely there. But why do you think you must go back to the warehouse, Dean?”

“Of _course_ I have to! It’s where all this happened! It’s where it will all _end!_ Now, hurry up! Can I drive? One last time? Or…” his eyes lit up as he realised: “ _I_ can drive it there, and _your_ Dean can drive it back! You two can both stay here if you want!”

“You don’t want us there to say goodbye?” “But… you’d be in the city on your own, Dean. Won’t you be scared?” Sam wasn’t sure which of the two of them sounded most upset at the thought of this Dean going home.

“Well, yes. But I can lock myself securely in Baby, and as long as I can park in that alley… If you two would prefer to sleep longer.” He bit his lip a little and tried to look apologetic but failed: “I’m sorry if I pushed you both too much last night, but it’s worked: at least for today. I’m not quite as unbearably hot as I was yesterday! I might make it home in time to get to Sam after all! But it’s a long way back to Kansas City, so, if you’re coming… come on!”

And he was jumping back over the corner of the bed and running out the door. And from the direction he took, heading straight to Sam’s old room, returning almost immediately with some clean clothes for the younger man to put on.

“Have I got time for a shower, Dean? And some coffee?”

But he could see from the other’s suddenly downturned smile just how disappointed he was at any delay. With a sigh, he got naked out of the bed and reached to pull Dean into his arms and hold him close: “This is going to be the last time, isn’t it? And I’m glad… for you. And for finally getting my Dean home… but I will miss you so _much_. I just want to tell you that in case I don’t get the chance later.”

He felt the other’s green eyes on him, but suddenly couldn’t face them: not wanting to spoil the other’s excitement and relief by showing how upset he was about the coming actuality of losing this Dean. Instead he looked over at Castiel who was coming around to them from the other side of the bed, also in an undressed state, to join in the mutual embrace. And on his face, he could see every bit as much upset as he felt in himself.

And every bit as much worry.

Because, God willing: they were going to be getting the _real_ Dean back as well that day.

But… just how was he going to react when he realised what had been going on in his absence?

 

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“Samuel? Why are _you_ in bed with Dean? Where’s dad? And why has your scent changed? It’s gotten really strong: I can smell it all over the house! And why is it all over _Dean?_ What have you been _doing_ to him?”

Dean blinked and sleepily tried to open his eyes: he didn’t want to as he was extremely comfortable lying in the warm embrace of his mate’s arms as Samuel spooned him, _but_ …the little girl was standing beside his side of the bed, her hands on her hips. As an afterthought, he checked to see that he had the covers safely over himself, especially his still naked lower half! “Um, Mary-Anne? Give us a few minutes, will you?”

“Can I get in as well?” And she was starting to try and lift the blankets. “Why has Samuel got no shirt on as well? Was he showing you his scars? He fell off his pushbike years ago and got all scratched up from the gravel.”

“Um, hold on, M-A!” And he was gripping the covers tighter around him in a panic.

“Mary-Anne!” His mate… Dean’s _mate!_... had had enough. “Get out and give us some privacy, will you!”

Even Dean had to turn to stare at him: he hadn’t noticed during the previous night whilst otherwise… occupied… but it hadn’t only been Samuel’s _body_ that had matured when he had presented.

“Your _voice_ has changed as well, Sammy! Why has your _voice_ changed? _And_ your scent… _No!_ ” And she was staring at her brother in shock. “You’ve _presented!_ You’re an _Alpha!_ And you’ve claimed _Dean!_ How could you!? You know _I_ wanted him! How _could_ you!” And she was stamping her foot, and looking ready to burst into tears.

“What?”

“ _Mary-Anne!_ ” And Samuel’s voice really _was_ sounding much deeper, and commanding: and it was having quite an effect on Dean that he hadn’t noticed until then, because it sounded… _incredible_ … and really quite a _turn-on!_ The little girl was still here in the room though: quickly, Dean, think unsexy thoughts, think unsexy thoughts!

But Samuel was still talking at his sister: “We’ve talked about this! You’re _seven!_ You’re not going to present for _years!_ And Dean’s my _soulmate!_ I’ve known it since the moment he _arrived!_ ”

“But I _might_ have presented! I _wanted_ to present! It’s not fair! It’s only because you’re the _eldest!_ If I was the eldest then it _would_ have been me! _I_ should have been the eldest! Then _I_ could have had him! It’s not _fair!_ ” And she was leaving the room in a massive whirlwind of a tantrum, slamming the door behind her and leaving both men relieved as well as speechless for a moment.

Samuel broke the silence. “One more thing to thank Our Lady for: the thought of Mary-Anne being my big sister is… terrifying. Absolutely _terrifying!_ ”

He lifted himself up on his elbow and looked down at Dean with a lustful smirk, that just as quickly turned into an anxious look: “How’s your stomach? Do you need your meds? Have I hurt you at all: I’m sorry if I rushed you too much…”

His words were cut off as Dean also raised himself enough to stop him from talking with a kiss. “I’m fine. Better than fine.” Then they were both settling back on the bed, facing each other: Samuel’s arms protectively around his mate.

How he _loved_ him: he had done right from that very first moment that his dad had walked in through the door and angrily slammed Dean against the wall by way of an introduction. How much had happened since then! But _Samuel_ had known, even with Dean’s then much weaker scent, just who he was and what he was _meant_ to be.

But this world had been so dangerous: both for his mom, and for his intended mate. And Samuel had felt so _helpless_. He wished he could have protected them both, especially _his_ beautiful Dean, but all he had been able to do was keep praying to Our Lady to look after him… and that day, when the Alphas had burst in and threatened Dean as well as his little brother and sister… Samuel had never felt so useless and scared.

Or so incredulous as to how amazingly his mate had fought.

Or so _proud_.

But now he had _presented_ … he was going to look after Dean every minute of every day for the rest of their lives. Or as long as Our Lady would let them have together, because he knew that M-A and Johnny had to have their mom back…

And that he would probably lose Dean in the process.

But he was ready to follow his mate whenever and _wherever_ he had to go. Or Our Lady had better have a _very_ good reason why he couldn’t!

“Penny for them?”

Dean was smiling at him: those vivid green eyes staring into his own. Brighter than his own: more perfect than his mom’s even. _His_ mate’s. Samuel _belonged_ to this man: heart _and_ soul.

And his lips.

And every single inch of the rest of him.

“I was just thinking…”

The other’s eyebrows rose.

“About my baby Alpha!”

Samuel had to laugh at Dean’s immediate put-out expression. “I told you last night: you _call_ me that, and we’re _over!”_

The new young Alpha had lain and watched Dean as he had slept the night before in his arms, still incredulous and thankful at being accepted as a mate, as well as just how _amazing_ knotting felt. And then… he had suddenly become aware that the scent of his father wasn’t just in the covers of the bed, it was all over his _mate_.

And there was just no _way_ his inner Alpha was tolerating _that!_

Without even realising it, he had followed Sam’s trail of exploration over Dean’s body, intent on removing any trace of the previous Alpha and replacing it with his own scent and touch. On _every_ inch of beautiful flesh that could be accessed by his fingers, lips and tongue, including the testicles that had earnt his new mate the already hated nickname! And he had really enjoyed sexually teasing and tormenting Dean until the man beneath him had been gasping with arousal and desperate to be satisfied. Which, of course, Samuel had been _more_ than ready to oblige.

And now, as they lay together in the bed and stared into each other’s eyes, he was hopeful of pleasuring Dean a third time!

But then there was a slight knock at the bedroom door, followed by a hesitant, tearful sounding voice calling through: “Dean? Mary-Anne says Sammy’s presented and claimed you. He hasn’t _hurt_ you, has he Dean?”

And Dean was giving Samuel a quick kiss and getting carefully out of the bed, still favouring his sore side, snatching up his pants from the floor and crossing ready to reassure the boy, and the girl who was also waiting outside with a perfected pout on her face, that he was fine. Samuel sighed and quickly snatched up his own sweatpants to cover himself as the room was immediately invaded by his siblings. He was just going to have to accept that his soulmate came with baggage, but he hadn’t quite expected it to be his _own_ little brother and sister!

And then they were all getting properly dressed and insisting that Dean take his medication, and finally facing going downstairs to try and sort out the massive mess in the kitchen enough to cook some pancakes for breakfast, though the two adults hurried the children past the smashed living room in case they got upset at the sight of it. “Sammy, can you keep them occupied in there while I start in here? Get it a bit more presentable…”

“You’re supposed to be resting!” His young mate had tried to reprimand him, but the both of them, and a sheepish Sam who had by this time joined them, knew that the sooner the room at least _looked_ back to normal, the better.

“Yes, mom!”

In the end, Sam had taken Mary-Anne and Johnny out of the way while Samuel carefully helped Dean to right some of the furniture. Then the young man was sighing as he looked around at all the broken pieces of the smashed possessions and reached to hold Dean’s hand for comfort. “You okay, Sammy?”

“They took the picture: the one of you…mom… and Gramps. They took it for evidence: what was left of it anyway.”

Dean nodded and held him even tighter. “At least, you’ve still that one of all of you over the mantle.”

It was one that had been done professionally of the whole family posed in a studio: Sam standing proudly with his arms tightly around _his_ Dean and the three youngsters smiling in front of them, obviously a few years before as Johnny only looked about six and had had both front teeth missing at the time, while Mary-Anne was all chubby cheeks and bright shining eyes. Dean looked across at it: “What were you: ten? And those long gorky limbs? When did you start to fill out and get those ripped muscles that I saw last night, eh?”

“I was fourteen, Dean.” He tried to sound irritated, but he hadn’t learnt enough wiles to hide the amusement in his eyes… _yet_. Even while he was trying to get his mate’s attention back on the mentioned _real_ body standing next to him. “I was trying to look _cool_.”

“Mmm.” But he accepted the kiss. “Now give me a hand with the dresser.”

“Dean! Watch your stitches!” But he sighed as he was ignored: Dean obviously hadn’t changed enough to have acquired _all_ the expected instincts of an omega. He certainly _wasn’t_ just going to blindly follow the orders of his Alpha no matter what: his might have been a physical change but it certainly wasn’t a _mental_ one. And Samuel wouldn’t have had it any other way!

He moved to start to collect the rest of the smashed and shattered photo frames, not noticing that Dean had been distracted by something. The large photo on the wall suddenly looked different to him: he had never noticed before, not even just _then_ , that the family were standing in front of a large cut-out of the moon.

Not in front of it: as Dean let go of Samuel, and started to cross to take another look, he realised that… the moon was now in _front_ of the _photo_. In fact, it appeared to be on the glass above that was protecting it: seeming almost like a _reflection_ …

But there was no moon to _reflect_.

And _certainly_ not one that was as large as this: it was filling the whole of the flat surface of the picture. As he approached it, he could clearly see his _own_ reflection inside the perfect circular shape. It was large enough that it easily encompassed his head and shoulders inside its lines, now completely obscuring the photo of the family beneath, and it certainly _hadn’t_ been there just a few minutes before, so what was it….?

And then there was a pale blue glow: only slight, only a wisp of a hint flashing across the surface of the mirage of the moon…

Despite himself, Dean found himself whispering to it. “It’s _you_ , isn’t it, Milady? I have to go _home_ , don’t I? But…” He wanted to shout at her, he wanted to _scream_ : he didn’t _want_ to go. “I… Samuel… We’ve… I don’t want to hurt him, Milady. He doesn’t deserve that. Will I get the chance to see him again…? Or…can you…undo what we’ve _done_ …somehow?”

But the glow of blue was stronger, lasted longer this time. “You’re not going to tell me, are you? Why have you _done_ this…?”

Nothing.

“Please. _Please_ , Milady. Please… Just… Can I come back? I just need to know… Do I find my way _back?_ Please?”

And then his breath was momentarily failing him, as the wide, pure circle of the moon’s surface on the image, or reflection, or whatever it was, opened and looked at him…and he realised that he was staring into an _eye_ : the ‘moon’ being just the eye lid, and the iris was of the most intense and brilliant pale blue to match her power, and the pupil being the universe itself, full of stars and darkness for as far as Dean could see into it…for eternity.

And he stared right into her soul, and she stared into his.

And then… she _winked!_

The eye winked at him, and he… _felt_ … her smile. Felt the warmth of it inside him. Felt it spread throughout his body.

And then she was gone, and it was just the picture of the family once more.

“Dean? Are you _really_ going to just ignore me? I was asking you about…” but Samuel stopped talking as his mate turned to him with a dazed expression, and a sudden, intense sadness in his scent.

“Sammy? I think I have to go _home_.”

 

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“Slow down, Dean: you’re going to get us pulled over!”

“Sorry.” And the omega was checking his speed and slowing the Impala a little… but not much. He was almost bouncing in his seat with excitement that he might be finally going home, and Sam tried to make himself be glad for him.

“Why do you think it’s suddenly glowing?” Dean abruptly asked out loud. “Do you think your Dean’s managed to do…whatever Our Lady _took_ him to do? Do you think that’s it? That I was just… _collateral_ while he was doing whatever it was she wanted?”

“I don’t know, Dean. I really don’t. But does it matter? The stone’s glowing, and hopefully that means you’re going home. Isn’t that what you want?”

“Yes, but…”

“But?”

The other sighed: “But… I… I thought… well, wondered… that it might be _me_. That I was special somehow… and that’s why this has happened. Instead,… really… I’ve just been… waiting for _your_ Dean to do… whatever.”

“You _are_ special, Dean.” Castiel was speaking up from the rear seat. “That spirit animal appeared for _you_ , to watch over _you_. And you saved _us_ , for which I will always be grateful to you and Your Lady for. And I will _always_ be grateful for getting to know _you_.”

Dean smiled at him through the rear view mirror. “And I am glad I got to know you, _both_ of you. I do love the two of you: I always will. And _thankyou_ : you have kept me alive here. And safe! I have felt _safe_ with you both, _thank_ you!”

“It’s our pleasure, Dean.” And Sam was reaching to hold his brother’s hand, while the angel leant forward slightly to reach over and gently touch Dean’s shoulder.

While they still could.

 

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The interior of the car was completely silent as Sam pulled it into the alley that led to the warehouse. But tears were in all the adult’s eyes, and ran freely down both the children’s faces.

Samuel had given way… somewhat ungraciously… to let his siblings sit either side of Dean in the rear of the car with him in the front seat beside his dad, but then… at least he had had his mate to himself just after Dean had had his vision…or whatever it had been… of Our Lady. The man had led him to the sofa, knelt before him as he sat, and told him exactly what he had just seen, although all Samuel could remember hearing, even now, were the words about having to go home.

And he had tried so hard not to cry: this wasn’t _fair_. How could Our Lady allow him such happiness one day to just snatch it away the next? And he could see tears in his mate’s eyes as well. And felt the intensity in the promise that he _would_ find a way back: Dean would _never_ give up trying, because he wanted to come _back_.

Back to Samuel.

Back to who were now his family.

Back to where he _wanted_ to _belong_.

But Samuel couldn’t help but feel resentful towards the deity.

And then of course, they had had to tell the children… well, _Dean_ had told Sam and the children, while Samuel had tried his hardest to behave like a mature Alpha, and not just scream his frustration at the world like he so desperately wanted to.

And Mary-Anne had just clutched at the man and sobbed, while Johnny had gone completely quiet. And… so had Sam.

And then, Dean had cooked them all bacon and pancakes with maple syrup, and told Samuel that he was still to go to College as he had been hoping to, because when Dean returned, and he was damn well _going_ to, then he expected to be rich, or _else!_ And Samuel, despite himself, had laughed and asked if he thought he was going to be a kept omega?

And Johnny had suddenly interrupted them by breaking his silence and telling them all about _his_ plans for training to be a chef that Dean had already been encouraging him about for the last couple of weeks, and about his eventual dream to one day perhaps open a bakery-café of his own, and his hope… for Dean to _stay_ there with them and for the two of them to open one together, with the man making his delicious cakes, and him doing the pastries, so Dean wouldn’t _need_ Samuel’s money, he would be an _independent_ omega thank you very much!

And Sam had smiled, and said that he could just see Johnny doing that and making a real go of it. And he would be very proud of him if he did.

And they were _all_ going to get Dean back somehow. Because, even though his departure hopefully meant the return of _Sam’s_ mate and the children’s mom, the senior Alpha was _very_ aware, and _very_ upset on Samuel’s behalf, that it meant instead the new Alpha would now be losing _his_ mate immediately after finding him. And Sam would have given _anything_ to be able to make that right for his son.

Make it right for them _all_ … because, as his children had said… this Dean was _theirs_. He was part of _them_ : somehow he had made their family complete.

And there was already a hole in all their hearts that would never be filled until he was back with them again.

So it was a silent carload that pulled up into the alley outside the warehouse. Samuel carried his sister and held Dean’s left hand tightly, while Johnny gripped the man’s fingers on his right hand so that he almost feared they would be broken so as to match his wrist, and without a word they all followed Sam down into the cellar area where it had all begun.

Nothing seemed to have changed… but Dean’s eyes went straight to something on the ground. Something that was glowing a pale blue.

Carefully he released himself from the others’ determined grips and went to warily pick whatever it was up: at least it wasn’t very bright yet. Not as bright as he remembered anyway.

“Dean?”

“Stay there… just in case. And it was really rough last time: I was knocked right out. Just be careful of the children: I don’t want them getting hurt because of me.”

“I’m coming with you, if I can. I _mean_ that.”

And Sam was glancing sharply at his son but nodding with understanding, although he bit his lip at the thought that he might never see him again.

But he couldn’t help but breathe a little sigh of relief as Dean immediately quashed his mate’s hopes: “It’s stopped glowing. The moment you said that. She’s not going to let you come with me, Sammy. But I’m telling you this: she ain’t going to stop me from getting back to you! _Somehow_. I’m coming back! You concentrate on getting your education, and I’m gonna concentrate on getting home to _you._ ”

And now he was finally reaching to pick the object up. And frowning. Because it looked like a stone.

Just a stone!

A largish, palm-sized, pebbly-smooth stone, perfect for skimming if it had been whole, but it wasn’t. In fact it looked like it had been… melted in two! One edge was glassed and polished as if it had been in an intense heat, and the shape of the thing was like a half-moon.

Was that really all it had been? A fucking _stone?_

And then it began to glow again, the blue shining right through his fingers to give almost an x-ray effect. And it was getting stronger.

“Wait! Wait!” and Dean was putting the stone down hastily and hurrying back to say his last goodbyes. He was dressed for the first time in over a month in his own clothes: his old, hard-wearing jacket and his denims and boots, and Sam had handed him back his gun and knife with a reluctant frown. But not even the feel of them in his hands again could make him feel anything but sadness at having to go back.

With one great big hug, his arms were around both children, careful not to catch either of them with the hard plaster cast. “You’re going to see your mom again! That’s good! Don’t be sad!”

“But we are!” He could hardly catch the whispers beneath their tears. “Hurry back, _please!_ We already miss you!”

“I’m already missing you as well! Love you both. So much!” And with one last kiss for each of them, he was straightening up and turning to Sam. “Samuel, look away!”

“What…?!” And the new Alpha was trying, and failing, to control his angry growl as Dean embraced Sam one last time, and was hugged back just as tightly.

“I’m so sorry for how I’ve behaved. And… thank you so much. For _everything!_ If you hadn’t _been_ here…”

“You just look after these three. And say ‘hey’ to your Dean for me: I hope I get to meet him one day.”

“Make it soon, Dean. I _mean_ that. It’s not only Samuel who’ll be looking to get you home. And when you do come back, we’ll have this world _right!_ My Dean: he’s going to know all about what you did, and…he’s going to have to pretend to be _you!_ For the reporters, anyway.”

And now Dean was finally turning towards his mate, who was holding something in his hand. “I nearly forgot. Here.” And he was slipping whatever it was into Dean’s inner jacket pocket. “I keep _my_ promises. You better keep _yours_ and get back here quick! Or I’ll come looking for _you_ instead, and then you’ll _see_ what an angry Alpha I can be!”

“Sammee… You’re just a pussy cat, and you know it!”

Then he was being surprised as the younger man gripped his face tightly and pulled him in for one last passionate kiss, causing Dean to have to desperately fight his body’s urge to slick. “I’m your _Alpha_ , Dean. Always will be. And I’m telling you… you get back _here_ to me.”

And the older man was biting his lip and nodding, for once unable to trust himself to speak.

Then the stone was glowing far more intensely than it had, as if deliberately trying to attract his attention.

With a sigh, Dean moved to go over to it once more. “Just keep the children back in case, Sam.” And his brother nodded at him and all but dragged the two of them further away, where he knelt with his arms around the little boy and girl, all their eyes glued in Dean’s direction.

But Samuel stayed where he was: standing erect in more ways than one, trying to fight the urge to simply physically force his mate out of there and to hell with getting his mother back. “This isn’t goodbye!” he told Dean, even as the other finally picked the now brightly glowing blue stone up.

Dean turned to make sure that his Alpha was the last thing he saw from that world, and winked at him: “You’re damn right!”

 

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Dean parked the Impala easily in the alley and immediately handed the keys to Sam. “Better not go home with _these!_ ”

Sam nodded, momentarily unable to speak. He glanced back at Castiel, who’s unhappy expression probably mirrored his own, and then they were both following Dean out of the car and into the building.

The half of the stone in Dean’s hand was now glowing so brightly that even Sam could see it, and it cast an eerie, unworldly glow around the darkness of the old warehouse. The others expected the omega to run straight down to the cellar, but instead he suddenly paused and turned to stare at them.

“I… _thank_ you! And… I really will _miss_ you! _Both_ of you! I… It’s been so wonderful to feel _normal!_ I almost don’t want to go back… I don’t _want_ to be treated as...an _object_ again. But I don’t suppose it will ever change… what the hell _could_ change it? It would take a _miracle!_

And my _children_ are there. Someone’s got to keep _them_ safe, especially my little Johnny! If I thought I could bring _him_ here, to this world…for him to be able to have a _life_ … well… I would! I really _would!_

But… that’s just a dream. Anyway, in case I don’t get the chance in a minute… _Thank_ you.

And I love you both so _much_.”

And he was pulling Sam down to him for one last long kiss. And then the same with Castiel. And then he was smiling, a shy smile, so unusual on Dean’s face that they both would _always_ remember it, and headed off down the steps to the cellar.

They hurried to follow, reaching the base of the steps just as Dean all but ran across the cellar floor, following the light of the stone to its source as the brightness reached eye-watering intensity… and then there was a momentarily tremendous flash of pure energy that seemed to fill the cellar with the bright light of pure _power_.

And then it was gone.

 

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Sam recovered and slowly struggled to his knees. The force of whatever it was had been just as great that time, but at least he had been expecting it. Well, sort of: he had once again been knocked off his feet, and possibly knocked- _out_ as well, but… he just wished his sight would clear from all the black blobs that covered it for what seemed like a long time.

Finally able to look around, he could see Castiel also getting to his feet: the angel having also been thrown across the room, even _he_  having been unable to withstand the power of whatever had caused this all to happen. And he seemed to be looking at the wall on the other side from Sam. Not the wall: the floor in front of it…

Sam hastily followed with his own eyes where the other was staring.

There was a body on the ground.

It was dressed in the old Dean’s, _his_ Dean’s, clothes at least: the thick jacket, denims, boots. And as Sam approached on slightly shaky legs, he could see the pearl handle of his brother’s gun tucked against his back through the gap created by the jacket having fallen up the body a little as it landed.

But… oh God, was he breathing?

By this time, Sam’s knees were hitting the concreted ground beside his brother and he was desperately pulling at Dean’s shoulder. “Dean? Dean!” He felt a moment of pure panic even as Castiel had also managed to get to his side, then…

Dean groaned. And tried to move.

The wave of relief that washed over both Sam and the angel was almost physical. “Dean, it’s okay. You’re _home_. Just sit up slow… take it steady.”

“Hey, Sam. You… _you?_ Or…” And he was starting to try and get his knees beneath him: his left hand with something in it going instantly to his left side at the front of his body. Where blood was beginning to spread on his shirt in a large stain. “Shit, Milady: you could have made that a _bit_ more gentle for me. You’ve ripped all the stitches…”

“Oh, Christ! What’s happened? You’re bleeding! And your arm? What’s happened: who’s _hurt_ you?” Sam was now all over him, frantic at the sight of the increasing red stain, and the pink cast, and the numerous bruises and cuts that he could now see covering his brother’s face and… well, everywhere he could see! Carefully he helped Dean to sit up where he was so he could tear away his shirt and see… tight bandages. And an increasing amount of blood oozing through them.

“I got stabbed.”

“Wha…? What? Who stabbed you? Are you alright? What _happened!?_ ”

“Long story. But I need stitching up again: did you bring a medical bag in?”

“Yes, but… even better...”

Sam was now recovering from the shock…and his intense _anger_ at the state that his brother had returned from wherever it was in. Nobody hurt _his_ Dean.

_Nobody_.

“Cas is here. He can heal you. _Cas?_ ”

“What?” And Dean was finally looking up, and breathing in. And realising that he could scent his brother, and… the angel really clearly. And Castiel actually smelt really good, but nowhere near as good as his Samuel did… and… What was that behind him? Two somethings, that were almost moving with the angel as he smiled in welcome and leant forward to touch Dean. Two _feathered_ somethings that shone as if polished, and glistened with every single colour that he could imagine, and seemed to be a physical part of his friend…

“What the fuck?” And Dean was scrabbling backwards, backing into the wall as he was trying to process what he was seeing.

“Dean? What the hell’s wrong?” and Sam was scrambling to his feet and hurrying to reassure him.

“That? Those…? What…?” But he couldn’t speak momentarily, couldn’t bring himself to say the word even. How could he be seeing the angel’s _wings?_

But now his brother was taking charge. “First thing first, you need healing. Cas?”

“I’m fine.” He didn’t want the angel close to him for a moment. Not while he tried to sort out what was wrong with him…

“You’re being ridiculous, Dean. And you’re still bleeding. A _lot_. Here!” And to Dean’s surprise and complete horror, he was suddenly being swept right up in his brother’s arms and carried over to an old workbench to be dumped down unceremoniously, Sam’s arms remaining tight around him. “Just sit there as Cas heals you. And then we can get you home. Those monsters will never hurt you again: I promise you that, Dean! I’ll kill any Alpha that _tries_ to get through from that dimension! They’re not _welcome_ here!”

And Dean looked up at him, as his younger brother stood with his arms still protectively around him…

and his dreams suddenly came crashing down.

What had he been _thinking_ , letting Samuel mate with him? He wasn’t even properly of the young man’s species: hell, Dean didn’t even _know_ what he was now, but he knew he definitely wasn’t human anymore because… how the hell could he suddenly see an angel’s _wings?_... but now he was here, and Samuel was… wherever the hell that world was.

And that was that.

God, Sam was going to be so angry at him, for getting emotionally involved with…what were more or less _monsters_ , and for… letting himself actually _love_ one of them… well, _all_ the children, but especially and really, really to _love_ Samuel, and for wanting to stay with them. And he _did_ want to stay with them: yes, he had wanted them to be able to have had their mom back… that was vital… _and_ for him to be able to _stay_ with them… somehow.

Like _that_ had been likely to happen!

And now, he had all but abandoned that wonderful young man, his mate, to a lifetime of unrequited love.

Not to mention himself as well.

And that’s if he even _survived_ his brother, because once Sam realised that _Dean_ was no longer human, but… something else…

Sam would probably kill him.

More than likely. He had been eager enough to kill Benny, after all. He _had_ killed _Emma!_ Oh god, what had Dean done? He should have _known_ that he was being stupid for hoping that he could actually be happy.

Why was he always getting everything so _wrong?_

And what the hell did he do _now?_

“Dean? _Dean!_ You’re hyperventilating! Calm down! For Christ’s sake, calm down! Just breathe. It’s okay: you’re home! You’re safe, Dean!” And Sam’s arms had tightened even more around him, holding him tightly in a massive and heartfelt hug, one large hand rubbing at Dean’s back in an attempt to soothe him from his obvious and sudden panic. “Just one breath at a time, okay? You’re _home_.

_Shit!”_

And he was ripping his brother’s shirt away to see clearer the vicious bite mark that he had just noticed on his neck: “That’s a _claim_ mark! Oh god, Dean: did you get claimed?” Sam’s face went white as he realised: “Oh god, have you been _raped?_ No _wonder_ you’re so upset! Oh, Dean! It’s okay: it’s okay. You’re home: you’re _safe!_ ”

And Sam was wrapping his arms tighter than ever around the older man, trying to force down his own rage at the thought that someone in that fucking world had dared to hurt him: and how afraid Dean must have been, trapped on his own in a place of such fear and violence. He glanced over at Castiel, and saw the same response in the angry tenseness of the angel’s body: nobody hurt _their_ Dean.

_Nobody_.

But then Dean was trying to pull away from him, out of his arms. “I can’t breathe: I need air!” And indeed he was still gasping in breaths, still struggling to control his frantically racing heart as the reality of his real life, his _old_ life, once again set in. His vision was blurring: he was seriously feeling light-headed. He needed to get out of there!

There was a door. Dean could remember a door from the last time he had been there: he had been up on the platform and he had opened a door that led to fresh air. Physically pushing Sam away from him, he all but fell off the counter and began to head in that direction, not even aware that he was stumbling slightly… and still holding his clenched left hand to the rapidly increasing stain of fresh blood on the bandages around his stomach.

“Dean, what are you doing? Slow down!” But the younger man was ignored as Dean had managed to find the steps and was heading up them, desperate to get to the door and get some clear, fresh air in his lungs. And to perhaps to just keep going to… _anywhere_ … whilst he was at it.

But then he was running into something: something warm, and firm, and solid. Something that also had _arms_ , and they were coming around his own to stop him where he stood, holding his upper limbs firmly into his body. “Dean. You must calm down. You are still bleeding heavily.”

Shit, it was Castiel! He must have flown up into Dean’s path on those… fucking shining, glossy wings that Dean just should _not_ have been able to see!

And now there were running footsteps approaching from behind, and Sam’s arms were also coming around him once more, as well as jamming his pointy knees into the backs of both of Dean’s legs. Together, Cas and Sam took the older man to the ground, trapped between them in the cage formed from their upper limbs around his torso and Sam’s knees across the back of his brother’s.

“Dean, it’s okay. You’re home and safe now. No one can hurt you anymore. Cas, can you heal that wound please? He’s losing so much blood!”

“I’m fine! I just need to get out of here!” And he was struggling ineffectually to get away from their combined strength.

“Dean, just calm _down_ , will you? Cas, please! _Heal_ him!”

“No, it’s fine. Don’t _touch_ me!” He didn’t know _why_ he was so insistent that the angel not do anything to him, but he was. But his demands were getting ignored as Castiel gently reached to touch his chest, his fingers already glowing with grace… but then he paused.

And instead moved to rest his hand against Dean’s abdomen momentarily.

And then he was staring straight at Dean with a mixture of incredulity and concern on his face: “Dean! There is a _life_ inside you!”

“What are you talking about, Cas?” Sam was responding to the announcement with a slight derision. “What do you mean: a _life?_ Like he’s _possessed_ or something? Or… what _else_ could it be…?”

But then he became aware of his brother’s reaction. Or rather: a lack of reaction. A lack of _anything_. It was as if Dean had been frozen where he was. He was just staring back at the angel, as if in shock: his face dead white, his eyes wide with horror.

And then his breath was starting to come in even shallower pants, and his heart beat was beginning to race right through his back against Sam’s chest. And the younger man could feel him trembling, almost to the point of visibly shaking, which Sam was extremely alarmed about. Because his big brother did _not_ tremble. _Ever_.

“Dean? Shit, come on, man. Calm down. Shit, you’re getting into a full-on _panic_ attack! Come on, you’ve got to calm down and just concentrate on your breathing! What’s _wrong_ with him, Cas?”

“He’s changed, Sam. Can’t you smell how strong his scent is now? He’s been _changed_! He’s an _omega_! And he’s having a _child_!”

“Don’t be so stupid!” But then Sam was also momentarily struggling for breath as he realised the terrible truth but only momentarily as his deep love for his brother immediately overrode everything else. Dean had been turned, raped and escaped… but only after somehow being seriously stabbed in the process: the blood was far too much for only a little wound, and it was still spreading! And he was carrying a child?

Sam’s _hatred_ for this strange and terrible world that the other Dean had been so terrified of grew exponentially.

He should have been able to get the real one back sooner somehow, although he didn’t know _how_. And he should _never_ had let the other one return to somewhere that was obviously so violent and controlling. Somehow, he should have found a way to keep that one here and safe, and _still_ get his brother back.

But it was too late for him to worry about the other Dean. Right now, the only thing he could do was look after his real brother and keep him safe. No matter what. He was and would _always_ be Sam’s _only_ concern. And right at the minute, he was descending into a massive anxiety attack!

“Come on, Dean, you’ve got to calm down!” The other was definitely struggling for breath now: his lungs unable to get enough oxygen momentarily, which was only raising his level of panic. “Cas, can’t you do something? Calm him down somehow?”

“I can try, Sam.” And the angel was catching at Dean’s face in his hands and making him look straight at him. “Dean.” He deliberately kept his voice calm and low in tone; the natural gravel of it authorative and soothing. “Whatever has happened, you are safe now. And we are here. Both of us. We will _always_ be here. Just… breathe… in. Out…. In…. Out…. Just listen to me, Dean. That’s it."

He was getting through. Dean was managing to slow the desperate snatches for air and inhale more steadily, although his heartbeat was still going far too fast for Sam’s liking. He now had one large hand around his brother’s chest, covering where the muscle was pounding frantically against the back of Dean’s ribs as if a living being was inside him trying to escape, and the other hand pressed over the now squelching bandaged area where the blood seemed to be seeping from, feeling his fingers getting coated with more and more of the warm moisture with every passing second, and a growing amount of panic in himself.

But Castiel was still talking to Dean, slowly and carefully. “That’s it, Dean. In… and out. Concentrate on that: nothing else. We’re here. You’re _home_. Where you belong.”

He forgot himself, closed his eyes, and leant forward to touch his lips to the full, pink ones of the other, licking along them with his tongue, asking for access. The sudden, complete silence in the vast warehouse made Castiel look up again. With sudden realisation that the kiss was _not_ being reciprocated.

For Dean was staring at him. And the look of… _horror_ … on his face was something that Castiel would never forget.

“Oh shit.” Sam was trying to keep himself, _and_ his brother, calm. “We can explain, Dean.”

“He kissed me, Sam!” Dean was finally finding his voice, though it sounded dazed and unsteady, even to him. “Why did he _kiss_ me?”

And he was turning to look at Sam, his eyes wide, his face drained completely of all colour during the last traumatic few moments. And then Dean was inhaling because he desperately _needed_ to, and he realised that the scent of his brother was full of guilt, and actually… so was his face. Why would Sam be so guilty about something? He wasn’t even able to look up at Dean momentarily….

And why had he said ‘ _we_ can explain’…?

“No.” The word was all but croaked.

“What?” and Sam was looking up again, to find himself looking straight into very troubled and anguished green eyes and somehow the look in those eyes made him feel more guilty than ever.

“ _No_. You didn’t…? You _wouldn’t…?_ ” But now _neither_ of the others would meet his eyes. “No, no, _no_. You _did,_ didn’t you? B… both of you? You slept with the other… _Me?_ You slept with…! How…? Wha…? How could you? Sam? He _looked_ like me, didn’t he: I saw his pictures… I'm sure he did...? I’m your _brother_ for God’s sake! How…?” He was starting to hyperventilate again, and the stain on his stomach was now saturated enough for drops of blood to start dripping down onto the ground. “And you, Cas…?” he rounded on the angel. “What the hell were you _thinking?_ ”

“I was thinking about _you_.”

He sighed as Dean blankly stared at him. “Do you really not know how I feel about you, Dean? How I have _always_ felt about you? The other Dean was there, and he was very tactile, and very _sweet_ , and continually touching, and happy to let me…, and I have always _wanted_ you, so I apologise but I was not able to _resist_ … “

He stopped speaking as Dean was trying to get up from where they both still had him trapped in their arms. And he was desperate to make them let go. “Let me up! I’ve got to…I need to get out of here. Need to think. Just get _off_ me!”

“For god’s sake, you’re still bleeding, Dean! Let Cas heal you and come back to the bunker, then we can talk…”

“No, no! Just let me go!” And he was really fighting them to try and get up: punching with his plastered hand and striking out with his still clenched tightly left hand, and head butting anything he thought he might hit within range. If Sam hadn’t been kneeling on the backs of his legs, they would both have lost their grip on him, such was the sudden violence used in the attack.

“Dean, calm _down!_ You’re lost far too much blood already, and you’re overwrought. And you’ve got to look _after_ yourself now! You’ve got to think about the…”

“The _what_ , Sam? The baby? I’ve got to think about the _baby?_ I’ve turned into something that’s not even _human_ anymore. I’ve been claimed! By a kid half my _age_ for fuck’s sake! And now I’m having a fucking _baby?_ And you’re telling me to calm _down!_ I’ve got to get out of here! Now, let _go_ of me!” And if it were possible, he was redoubling his efforts to escape.

Sam looked across at Castiel: his face and puppy-eyes almost desperate with anxiety as he tried to ask the angel to do something without words, his eyes _pleading_ for the other to understand.

Castiel understood. Although he hated having to do it. With just one touch from him to the man’s forehead, Dean was suddenly out cold, lying limp and unconscious across their arms.

They both caught their breath and stared at each other. “How could this have happened, Cas? What did they _do_ to him?”

“I don’t know, Sam. But… I would suggest we get him home before he awakes. That really did not go as well as I’d hoped: perhaps he will be calmer back at the bunker?”

“Yeah, yes, I guess.” The younger man fumbled in his pocket for the keys to the Impala and handed them across to the other. “Can you get everything else and unlock the car? I’ll bring Dean.”

“I can carry him, Sam, if you’d prefer.”

But Sam was already struggling to his feet, cradling his big brother safely in his arms. Dean had definitely lost weight over this last month and that was another thing that worried him. Carefully he began to make his way to the stairs to get Dean safely home. “That’s okay, Cas. I don’t intend to be letting go of him any time soon.

We’ll get him back and we’ll sort this whole mess out… _somehow_.

And just for once, he’s going to have to get used to me taking care of him! Because I think he _needs_ taking care of now.” The younger man shook his head in disbelief at what had happened.

“And I’m telling you this, Cas. I‘m _never_ letting him out of my sight from now on. He is… _never_ … going anywhere without me ever again!”


	3. Chapter 21

Somewhere, a heavy steel door clanged shut with a bang.

Dean came to with a violent start. For a moment he couldn’t take in where he was, but then he realised.

He was in his own room at the bunker.

Shit, he must have been unconscious for a long while as it was a good few hour’s drive back there from Kansas City. That fucking angel!

But… at least he was still alive. Sam obviously didn’t intend to just kill him for being a monster… yet.

Groggily he went to try and sit up, but then he was almost physically hit by all the scents in that confined space. The combinations made his head spin, he felt dizzy and slightly sick: giving up momentarily, he lay down on his back and just concentrated on _breathing_. He had never thought much about this most basic of senses until his journey to the other... world... dimension... whatever it had been, but _now_...? It was overpowering: every aroma in the room was assaulting him!

More than that. He could tell without having to think about it, just _who_ had been in that room. And how recently. Just from that one inhale!

There was a strong sense of his brother...almost exactly identical to the Sam of the other world. Dean would have been hard pressed to tell the difference... except that this one’s, his _real_ brother’s, was weaker, _much_ weaker. It was only a slight scent, nowhere near as overpowering as the other Sam’s had been, even in the beginning. But still it filled the room, as if his brother had been in here a _lot_ during his disappearance: _sweating_ , and...

Dean paused, slightly stunned, as he registered what that other aroma from his brother was.

Trying to put _that_ thought out of his head, he concentrated again on the pure scent of the angel. He had noticed it immediately on his arrival back in the warehouse: Castiel had a really _amazing_ , ethereal aroma all of his own, albeit a weak one. Not as attractive as his Samuel’s, but still… And… it wasn’t a human scent: Dean wasn’t sure how he _knew_ it wasn’t human, but there was something about it that...just _wasn’t_.

With a sigh, Dean breathed in again, instinctively identifying... _everything_. Why _was_ there such a strong scent of Castiel in here anyway? Dean could smell his scent clearly: on the bed, right amongst the bedclothes, and...

They had used _his_ bed.

They had _all_ used his bed!

They had used his memory foam _mattress!_

_Bastards!_

And now he was finally identifying the other scent in the room. It was himself! He had never even registered his own scent before...but now, in his old bedroom... he could smell _himself_. More than that: two distinct versions. One was a very weak, old aroma that had...been _him_ before he had turned into whatever he had turned into. He couldn’t believe the difference, or rather...how _intense_ his new scent now was. No wonder all those fucking Alphas had kept noticing it!

And there was something...some  _one else_ who had been in his room. The scent was almost identical to his, but… not the same. It must have been the other Dean, from the other world, but there was a definite _difference_ between them. Samuel had _told_ him there was. _His_ scent was that bit sweeter: more meadow-flower; more spring forest in bloom. But again, the other Dean’s aroma filled the room, with sweat, and slick, and _pleasure_.

Dean sighed with slight relief: at least the other hadn’t been raped. Not that he would _ever_ have thought of his brother in such a way, _or_ Castiel come to that, but there was definitely no stress or fear from the other Dean that he could scent. Whatever had happened in his bed, it had been consensual.

But… they had slept with him. _Both_ of them!

And that very much left Dean unsure as to what Sam and Castiel’s thoughts as to _him_ might be now. If they had… done _that_ with his look-alike… since he had been away: what might they be expecting from him now he had returned? Especially as now he was _also_ an omega. Or… as Dean now suspected… he had _always_ been an omega, but just never known it.

Now he couldn’t help but be worried: Castiel had already kissed him within _minutes_ of his arrival home! And the way Sam had just picked him straight up in his arms…?

Disconcerted by these thoughts, Dean hurried to try and get out of his bed once again as at least the dizziness seemed to have passed. But as he put his weight on his left hand, he felt that there was something in it, something that he had instinctively been holding on tightly to, even through the pain and trauma of the return and everything that had happened. Even forced unconsciousness hadn’t caused his fingers to relax their grip: the knuckles were white with the tension of hours of gripping it tightly.

Dean felt a great relief wash over him as he convinced his sore fingers to open, and he saw he had still been holding the stone. At least he hadn’t managed to lose it this time. Hopefully the other Dean would have managed to keep the other half as well, and with it, _somehow_ …

He could find his way back to that world.

He just had to keep looking.

And…

He was going to have a baby?

_Shit_.

For a moment, Dean’s thoughts faltered as he tried to register what that actually meant: he was going to have a _child!_ He had not only turned into something else, but he was going to have a baby! And although he thought that Sam, once he had recovered from the shock of his brother not being human anymore, and probably Cas as well, perhaps might well try and help him, he didn’t _want_ them to.

It shouldn’t be _on_ them to help him: it wasn’t fair to _expect_ them to. It wouldn’t even be fair to _ask_.

No, he had to leave.

He needed to get dressed and get _out_ of there, before his brother came in and tried to convince him to stay. Or do something else…

Dean hurried to the chest of drawers to find himself some clean clothes, but even as he was crossing the room he realised… He had been healed!

Dean quickly unwound the still bloody bandages from around his torso: there was no sign of the stab wound, nor the resulting surgery. Nor were there any signs of the rest of his multitude of bruises and wounds from that day. And his arm felt whole and strong again. Noticing his gun and knife on top of the drawers, he reached to grab the sharp blade and used it to slit the cast off, nicking his skin a few times in the process but mindless of the pain. His arm was definitely as good as new, as was the rest of him, but…

Without even realising that he was doing it, Dean had both hands pressed to his stomach, desperate to feel… something that would confirm that the small life was still there and safe. That Castiel hadn’t hurt her, however unintentionally, during the process of healing him. He let out a breath that he hadn’t even registered that he had been holding in: there she was.

He didn’t know how he knew, there must be some new omega sense he had that he couldn’t even put a name to, but he was _sure_. She was safe.

And she had to be the _only_ thing that mattered to him now.

He had to get _out_ of there.

Hurriedly Dean pulled his boots on, and noticed his jacket where it had been carelessly slung over the chair in the corner. Snatching it up, he went to put the stone safely in the inside pocket… and paused as he felt other items already in there. Pulling out his dad’s journal, he carefully placed it on top of the drawers: he had no further need of it.

But his _brother_ would.

As an afterthought, he put all the fake identities in his wallet beside the journal. _And_ his cell phone: Sam would only try and track it if he took it with him.

The only thing he had left in his pocket now was the small folding soft double-photo frame that Samuel had slipped into there that morning…at least he thought it had still been that morning. Inside it were the copies of two pictures that the young man had made for him: one was the one of him… his counter-part… and their dad that he had liked so much, and the other was of Samuel, Mary-Anne and Johnny, all smiling at him through the lens.

Despite himself, Dean smiled back. How he already missed them! _All_ of them!

Especially his mate. And somehow his scent felt _lonely_ , as if it were missing a part of itself. It wanted Samuel’s comforting scent to make Dean feel better… to make him feel _complete_. Or was that just Dean himself, missing the young man already?

He had to find his way _back_.

Carefully he slipped out of the bedroom and as quietly as he could, began to work his way up towards the main door. He paused as he got to the kitchen area, where he could voices. Gingerly he peeked around to see where the two other men were and, upon seeing both their backs, and trying not to freak at the sight of, once again, the _wings_ , carefully crept past the door, pausing momentarily to listen.

“What did you get him?”

“Bacon cheeseburgers and fries, his favourite.” Dean felt instantly nauseous just at the thought of burgers and rested his head momentarily against the cool of the tiled wall, trying to control his stomach. “And a six pack. And lots of groceries: I have the feeling that we’re going to have to have this place on lockdown for a while! How much longer do you think he’ll be out?”

“I am not sure, Sam. I did not expect it to be this long even: I am getting a little concerned. Though he must have been exhausted: it looked like he had been through a great deal. Have… have you thought about when he awakes? He will not be happy about… he _was_ not happy about…. the things that have happened. He was quite repulsed at the thought.”

“Yes well: it’s _happened_ , Cas! You and I have crossed the line, _waaay_ beyond it, and I don’t know about you but I wouldn’t change a fucking moment of it! So… the situation is as it is, and he’s just going to have to get _used_ to it. More than that: he’s going to _need_ us! So, he either accepts what’s happened, or I pull all those chains up from the dungeon and he finds himself either tied down in his room, or on a collar and fucking _leash_ until he comes to his senses!”

Dean didn’t wait around to hear any more: he was turning and heading for the steps that led to the outside world as quickly and quietly as he could.

Behind him, in the kitchen, Castiel was turning to Sam in surprise at the young man’s sudden snap of anger: “You wouldn’t really do that? He’d hate it, Sam. And… really… he has every _right_ to be upset.”

“No...” Sam put down the packets he was holding to rest both hands on the counter, his head drooping a little and his hair falling in front of his eyes. “No, of course I wouldn’t, Cas. And…yeah, yes I know he has. This whole situation is a mess. But... you won’t like this, but he might well _have_ to be tied down for a while: his emotions must be all over the place. Not to mention his _hormones!_ God knows what’s happened, but ...he’s changed! Physically! And he’s obviously traumatised. And, well, he’s having a baby for God’s sake!

And… he’ll want to try and keep it, Cas. Dean loves kids: he really _does!_ Even if it _kills_ him to have it, he’ll want to _try!_

This is all _completely_ new territory, Cas, and there’s absolutely _nobody_ we can ask for help or advice on this one! He’ll be feeling embarrassed, and helpless, and... _you_ know what he’s like for accepting help! He’d rather feel that that he’s on his own than admit that he might need it! Believe me, he’s going to take some convincing that he’s _not_.”

The angel nodded thoughtfully: “He definitely _is_ not, Sam. I’ll be there, no matter what.”

“We _both_ will, Cas. We’ll going to be there every step of the way! But... whether he’ll believe that we’re there because we _want_ to be, rather than we _have_ to? This is _Dean_ we’re talking about, remember? The most stubborn person I’ve ever met, and who thinks asking for help is a weakness. Shit: he sees asking for _anything_ as a weakness!”

“And… _us_ , Sam…? Us and Dean, that is?”

Sam looked at the angel: he could see the same regret in the other’s face that he felt in his own heart. “There _is_ no more us and Dean, Cas. There _was_ us and the other Dean…and he’s gone. But _this_ Dean… _our_ Dean… he really needs our _help_. Nothing else. And he’s going to _hate_ that he does.

We’re gonna have our work cut out the next few months, Cas! The actual baby will probably be the _easy_ part!”

The angel nodded thoughtfully. And sighed with genuine sadness. “I’ll go and check on him again: he was still sound asleep when I heard you return, but he must be awakening soon.”

“Let me put this last bag of groceries away and we both will. It’ll only take a minute.”

At the top of the steps to the bunker, Dean was now pulling the heavy steel door closed behind him as carefully as he could, still worried about making the slightest sound, and turning to face the outside world.

He was surprised to find it was night time: just how long _had_ he been asleep? But he paused momentarily and took a breath of what had been his world, but which now seemed completely different. The trees opposite and behind the bunker door rustled with life: he could hear, see and smell the small creatures and insects amongst them going about their routine existence. Even the leaves seemed to squeak as they moved with the gentle night breeze. He could sense it all so clearly: it was as if he had more than just the five usual abilities that humans assumed there to be. His whole _body_ felt part of the natural world.

He wondered which way to go: he was worried about taking the road as he was far too likely to be caught by his brother and Cas once they’d discovered he had gone. He really should move, but… instead he dithered at the entrance for a moment, trying to decide which way to go, waiting for…

Waiting for _something_. But he didn’t know what.

Then the clouds above magically parted as if blown away by an intentional puff of blown air to reveal the full moon. She shone through the dark, the light immediately lighting the area around him and dazzling his eyes before they instantaneously adjusted. In fact, it caught _all_ his senses: he felt... he _knew_... that without a doubt, it was _her_ who had caused all this.

And he wasn’t afraid, or worried, or even _angry_ at this incredible sentient being looking down at him. In fact he felt himself physically basking in her glow, remembering her face…or as close to her face as he was ever likely to get. _More_ than that: Dean found himself breathing in deeply; relaxing, settling, absorbing her peace, _accepting_ …

Accepting what he now was.

And then it came. Appearing almost as if from the light of the moon itself. First there was nothing there… then there was a pair of eyes in the woods, staring out at him from the darkness. As green as his own, as _brilliant_ as his own, but with a cat-like luminosity behind them that he still hadn’t connected that his own had. She stood at his chest height, the most magnificent spiritual being that he could ever have imagined, approaching him on all fours and purring at him in welcome. He could make out the dappled markings, the spots and splotches that made up her fur… oh Milady, she was _so_ beautiful.

And Dean knew with relief that he wasn’t going to be alone. She had sent help: whatever this was, whatever Our _Lady_ was, _she_ had sent it. This stunning spirit animal was here for _him_ : to watch over him, to protect him, to take him where he needed to go.

He just had to trust.

And with that thought, Dean was heading across the road and down through the trees, instinctively avoiding low branches, roots and sharp thorns as easily as if he had been born doing it: every one of his old senses working effortlessly with every one of his new ones to allow him to hasten away from the bunker and his old life, following and being guided by the spiritual being that his Lady Moon had sent to lead him on.

He didn’t know where they were going but it didn’t matter.

He was a new Dean facing a new dawn, and it was all going to be alright.


End file.
